


Beneath The Surface

by bitchbehumble



Category: O'Shea Jackson Jr, O'Shea Jackson Jr.
Genre: F/M, First Time Sex, POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5046793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchbehumble/pseuds/bitchbehumble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You spend the night at your best friend's house and an unexpected encounter occurs with her brother while you're there. In which, changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Invited

It’s been two months since you’ve been over to Kareema’s, and she’s asked you at least once a week. And although you’ve said you would be there, when it comes time, you stall and eventually make up an excuse as to why you unfortunately can’t make it.

The truth– it was because of the what happened the last time you were there, two months ago.

You’ve been a friend of Kareema’s for seven years; you would go to her house almost every other day. No problem. The entire family knows you, AND loves you. You’re always welcome. But, after that last night, you can’t seem to bring yourself to go. It’s not that you’re ashamed or embarrassed of anything that happened. You’re scared. Nervous. It might be different if you knew what the other person is thinking, or how they feel, but you also know it’s not going to be the same.

Birthdays, slumber parties, barbecues, or, just an average after school hang out, you’ve been around Kareema’s brothers as if they’re like your own. And they treat you as if you’re just another sister. You’ve met their girlfriends. You even call their parents, mom and pops.

Finally, this is an event you can’t avoid. Kareema is expecting you as a dear friend would, and you’ll have to face everyone. Everyone who doesn’t know what you know as you’ve kept it a secret. Even from Kareema. There’s even been days where you wonder if Kareema will come to school questioning you as if she knows something. As if someone said something. Anything. Maybe, they asked about you. Although, there was never nothing.

You’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, anticipating what you’ll wear, how you should do your hair, what color lipstick. You’re on edge and getting frustrated just thinking about it. Why does he have you like this? You’ve been around him so many times you can’t even begin to count. Why does being around him now make any difference?

Just as you ask yourself that question your cheeks begin to warm. Just as the night he found you standing in the kitchen holding a glass you just had pulled from the cabinet. Normally it would have been no big deal but you had came down from Kareema’s room wearing a light tank top with no bra and booty shorts.

It was late and Kareema had fell asleep on you. You were blogging on Tumblr and leaned up for a drink of your Coke, realizing it was warm. And you hate warm pop.

The house was quiet and dark and you thought it to be a clear shot for a glass with some ice from the kitchen. But there he was. Unexpectedly standing in the breezeway, watching you, wearing a facetious smirk as if he had a clear visual of what you look like without any clothes on.

“S’up,” he said, in his low, deep voice. As many times as you have heard him say what’s up to you, this was different. Not only how he said it, but how he meant it.

You cleared your throat, “Just getting some ice,” you say, slightly holding up the glass as if to show. You could tell he was high or drunk, even through the darkness. Neither of you finding a light to flip. And of course not you as you feel exposed as it is in your night sleepwear.

Suddenly, a ringtone goes off and the uncomfortable scene is broken. You turn toward the fridge and push the lever for ice to spill into your glass. And you hear Shea behind you, “I told you, I’m not talkin’ ‘bout this shit ‘gain.”

Of course, you think to yourself, he must be arguing with his girl again. It seems he’s been arguing and on and off again with this girl for several months now. You can tell he ended the call and you spin back to his attention. “Why you with her, if y’all always fightin’?” You ask.

He looks up from his phone and begins a slow, drunken smirk again. “You wanna go out by the pool an’ smoke this wit’ me?” Trading his phone for a fat joint, he nods to the back patio. “Ain’t nobody awake,” but then he thinks of his sister. “What’s Kareema doin’?”

“She sleep,” you answer, hesitating whether or not to go. And further more, wondering if you choose to, should you run up and grab a jacket before. Or at least something. 

“You scared,” he antagonizes with a laugh. 

Now, you purse your lips, and tilt your head slightly to the side, looking up to him through your eyelashes. “I ain’t scared.” You know now, you have to go.

“Come on then,” Shea says as he takes a few steps to the patio doors and opens them. The cool breeze immediately hardening your nipples as you exit. However, you try and remain cool and keep yourself from having to face him directly. 

You take a seat on the nearest patio chair and hover over, crossing your arms and basically, hiding yourself.

Shea laughs, “You cold?”

You roll your eyes.

“You ever got high before?” He asks, knowing you probably haven’t. 

“Maybe…” You answer as you watch him light up the joint and take a deep hit. After a couple more tokes, he hands it over to you. You take in a breath yourself as you reach out, gripping the end between your fingers, hoping you’re holding it right and even more so, hoping you’re going to hit it right.

But you fail.

The first hit was too deep and you instantly begin choking and Shea erupts with laughter. It’s a minute or two before you catch your breath and stop hacking.

“Shut up!” You gravel.

And just as you say those words, your head becomes light and you’re wearing an instant perma-grin. You hit it again, but this time easily. Now you’re higher. And before you know it, you’re staring at the waves of the pool, lost in a trance. 

It’s like it’s been at least 10 minutes you been lost when you remember your Coke and glass with ice, which sounds delicious right now with your dry mouth. You stand and take a step toward the kitchen, and Shea’s warm hand grips your arm. And in that moment, it’s as though it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. You freeze, turning your eyes to meet his glossy dark ones.

“Where you goin’?” He asks, softly.

After that, everything becomes cloudy. You don’t quite remember the conversations, how you went from the patio to his bedroom, or how it actually begun. All you remember is how you felt, how he felt and how it felt.


	2. Reminisce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit Content

You roll to your side getting comfortable; clutching a pillow and tucking it under your head while smirking. You begin to reminiscence... the way his lips felt against yours when he kissed you for the first time, the way his body radiated with so much heat-- like a comforting blanket, the way he was tender and handled you with such care, and especially how he left no part of your body untouched. It was as though he were putting you to memory. 

It helped being high, otherwise you would have been trembling. Everything came so naturally and easily that you had no fear of giving yourself to him. You wanted it, and you wanted him. Sure, you always thought he was good looking, but he’s like a brother and you never thought... well... you just never thought. 

You lift your index finger to your lips as you remember how he tasted when his wet tongue expertly slid and tangled with yours-- a mix of good weed and even better cognac. His kiss was filled with such exquisite passion and depth, you hadn’t realized how swift and smooth he had removed your sleepwear. It wasn’t until he lifted and knelt before you, undressing himself that you realized you were lying naked. It’s then you feel a rush of nervousness, chewing on your lower lip to contain the anticipation for what’s to come. 

It’s less than a minute before he’s hovering over you; his mouth claiming yours yet again so eagerly. It seems like at least an half hour before he drifts his mouth down your chin, your neck, leaving a remarkable display of sweet kisses-- his lips suctioning in a bit of skin to gently suck along his path. 

The temperature of your body so warm that when his tongue finally reaches and drags over your tight nipple, it’s a brief satisfying chill. You softly whimper; the first of several. Shea licks and toys with the firm morsel until it’s smooth, and moves over to pay equal attention to the other. Traveling further, he reaches your navel. He teases shortly, dipping the point of his tongue in and around and continues on, falling down between your thighs. 

Through all the kissing you both shared, never once did you feel the prickles of his mustache and beard as you do now. And you don’t know if it’s the high, but you feel everything he’s doing much more intensely than you ever had experienced. 

You try to stay relaxed as a thick finger begins to explore your outer lips, and slowly dips in between the layers of your warm and wet inner lips. Your eyes clamp shut as the tip of his finger grazes over your tender bead, and sends a shiver spiraling down your spine. A hand grips the sheets as you feel a dull ache quickly grow, and Shea replaces his finger with his tongue, taking over the agonizing play with his mouth. He hums. He licks. And licks again. He sucks, and sucks harder, and sensations shoot like fireworks throughout your body to the point you almost can’t take much more. 

But he’s just beginning as he wraps his strong arms around your thighs, immobilizing you and spreading your lips further apart with his fingers. You know, not only does he find how wet your truly are, but he also finds you’ve never been deflowered. 

Without wasting time and letting you come down, he dives right in. Using the flat of his tongue to stroke all along your silky skin. Your chest heaves; more whimpers escape. It’s as though he can read every shutter, every quiver, you make and he drives his tongue faster, repeating quick licks and erratic motions over your sensitive bead. You fist the sheets tighter and with the last precise flick of his tongue, you quake with an astounding eruption you’ve never felt before, followed by long gratifying moan. 

Not letting you settle, Shea continues his pleasurable torment and devours you, drinking and lapping every bit of you up, not letting a drop go to waste. His tongue continues to explore and suddenly you feel him begin to tease and rim you, but you’re not disgusted, you’re still lingering and tingling from the amazing rush he had just delivered. 

Finally releasing you from his grips, you feel your legs begin to tremor. And he grins. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as though he had just finished a slab of ribs, he leans down and hovers over you once again, immediately crushing his lips with yours to kiss you hard and deep. You taste yourself in the kiss, but you don’t care, you’re lost in the moments and desperately wanting him to take you. Have his way with you. Have you anyway he wants. 

And he does. 

Settling himself between your thighs, he reaches between you both and grips his thick and heavy length, placing his tip just at your entrance. He concentrates further on kissing you and you wait, trying to focus on kissing him in return but you know what’s about to happen. And although you want it badly, you’re nervous and fearing the pain. You slide your arms around his shoulders, holding tight, and slowly, his hips begin to move. At first he’s just gliding his tip, provoking the break through. You lose focus on the kiss and your body impulsively tenses when you feel the pressure of him trying to penetrate. You close your eyes. 

Shea lays his weight to you, engulfing you into his arms, and resting his head to your shoulder, and with a brisk snap of his hips, he’s inside you. Simultaneously, your eyes instantly open wide and water, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder blades and an audible cry leaves you in response to the fill and burn. Shea holds, letting you adjust. It’s taking all you can to not scream from the pain. 

“Relax,” he whispers. “I’ll go slowww.” 

The burning sensation is so strong you don’t realize he’s begun to eject from you until he fills you again, this time pushing deeper. You cry out even louder, forcing pressure onto his shoulders as if to stop. He’s finally fully in and he holds once more, soothing you with soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. 

Gradually, his hips begin to work, and you can take it now. It’s not as painful and in fact, it feels good. HE feels good. You notice the tiny noises he makes, how his body heat grows, your hands become clammy against his skin, and the air of the room is now humid. And you can’t believe how this man is in side you; getting off on you. 

With his mouth near your ear, you hear his breath quicken, you feel his heart racing and beating against your chest, you feel his pace picking up, and you know he’s close. You hold tighter as he’s rocking you, rocking the bed, shoving harder and faster-- skin on skin smacking and echoing throughout the room. He’s hitting the deep within you and it hurts again, but you stifle your cries, burying your face into his shoulder. Then, abruptly, he pulls from you and you feel nothing but heat spewing against your inner thigh. And Shea, he’s panting heavily, his heart feels like it’s going to explode against you, and his sweat has completely showered and drenched you. 

You let your head fall back to the bed, your hands loosen from his shoulders, and Shea raises his head, his dark heavy eyes finding yours, and kisses you tenderly. It’s several moments of sweet kisses before he rolls to your side, pulling you against him to hold. And you begin to wonder and worry if anyone heard, if Kareema woke up, what’s going to happen now. 

You’re tired, and don’t want to move because Shea feels amazing, but you’re a wet sticky mess. Contemplating the debate, you give in and stay, falling asleep against his chest and to the melody of Shea’s narrow and peacefully breathing. You know he’s out.


	3. Seeing His Face Again

You’re looking into the mirror, checking over yourself and straightening your skirt. You’re feeling good and confident and you think you’re prepared for, anything. Considering you haven’t seen or heard anything, you assume it will be as though nothing ever happened. You refuse to let yourself think otherwise. After all, you know Shea well enough; you’ve seen him through three relationships now.

However, there you are, looking back at yourself, and reflecting on who you are. Fooling yourself that you’ll be able to pretend like he doesn’t matter. But you know he does. You’re lying to yourself. It meant something to you and you want it to mean something to him. You turn away from the argumentative mirror and your eyes cast down to the linoleum of your bathroom, and you flashback to the morning after.

You remember waking up by footsteps in the hallway, and you quickly sit up, ignoring the soreness and scram for a blanket to cover. You were afraid someone would walk in. After a moment of no more movement, you’re a little relieved and look back to Shea. You realize he’s a heavy sleeper as an arm is thrown above his head, his mouth is hanging open and he’s full of sweat. The corners of his lips curl into a small smile watching him. And you remain in disbelief of what happened.

Knowing someone is awake in the house, you must get back to Kareema’s room, and hope she’s not the one awake and looking for you. You stand from the bed, feeling tender and filthy, when you recognize deep crimson smeared all in Shea’s sheets. Your mouth falls open and you instantly feel your face becoming warm with embarrassment. You scramble for your clothes and sneak back to Kareema’s room. And that was the last time you saw Shea.

In the clear, no one noticed you tip-toeing from room to room. Kareema was still asleep and you were thankful she had her own bath. After the shower, you left Kareema a note explaining you had to leave-- you didn’t feel good. The whole way home, all you thought about was Shea waking up and seeing blood everywhere. You hoped he wouldn’t be disgusted and most of all, you hoped he washed his own sheets.

Your phone blings and brings you out of the daze. You walk out of the bathroom and to your bag on the bed, fishing for your phone. You see it’s Kareema messaging you a photo. And your heart flutters. The image is her with Shea standing outside by the pool and the message, ‘We’re waiting on you. Hurry and get here before dad does.’

Everything about that message made you smile and feel good, and with no more worry, you leave.

As instructed on the invitation, you find a parking spot on the lawn of the neighbor’s, and walk a house away in heels to the Jackson’s residence. It’s a surprise birthday party Kim had planned for Senior, and everyone was to hide their vehicles at the neighbor’s and meet in the backyard.

You walk around the house and just before you step into the backyard, you pause, taking in a long deep breath. You clear your throat and step on through. There’s many people, some you recognize, and a few you don’t. Your eyes begin searching for Kareema, but they’re stopped instantly when spying another female instead. You’re disappointed. However, you put on the fake smile and continue to search for Kareema.

Not seeing her, you peer through the glass patio doors into the kitchen, scanning around to spot her. “You mind tellin’ me why you ain’t been ‘round?” Your heart stops and your eyes clamp shut. You know that voice and every tiny speck of hair stands from you skin. You gather your thoughts for an answer and turn on your heels to face him.

“I’ve been busy.” You stand firm and strong, but damn if it wasn’t a difficult task. He looked good, he smelled good and looking him directly into the eyes about killed you. 

“You ain’t been that busy,” he returns. You know he doesn’t believe you. “So what’s up? You ready for this party?” He asks, changing the subject. And you’re glad. 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see pops face.”

Shea smiles, “Yeah, me either.” He looks out to the crowd in thought as if he’s imagining his father’s surprise. And you just watch him. It’s funny how everything about Shea now interests you. It’s like you’ve never paid attention to how his entire face lights up when he smiles.

“How you been?” You ask. 

He looks back to you, “You know,” he shrugs, “the same I guess. Not really shit been goin’ on.”

Your lips tighten together as you passively hum, “Mmm.” You don’t really know what to say, so you give a soft genuine smile. And he returns it just as sweetly.

He leans a bit closer. “Why I think you been avoidin’ me?”

Your eyes drift past him, still not knowing what to say as your smile begins to naturally fall. However, you cleverly recover. “I don’t know. Why do you?”

He laughs. “You can’t answer my question with a question.”

“Well, I can’t answer YOUR question for you. Only you can answer that.” And you both laugh together. 

“Auight, I see how you playin’ me.”

“Whatever.” You both laugh more. 

“You seen Kareema yet?” He asks, through the fading laughter.

“No, I just got here. I was looking for her. I thought she might be in the kitchen or something.” 

“She is. She’s with moms. Come on,” he says, and gently clutches your hand, leading you through the patio doors. This gesture actually shocks you. Not only because you weren’t expecting it, but you wouldn’t expect it as his girlfriend is just a few feet away. You’re not understanding, but now is not the time to think on it. You’re about to face Kareema and his mom.


	4. Surprise

Here you are, walking in front of Shea’s entire family and friends, holding his hand. Or him holding yours rather. You’re wearing this ear-to-ear grin when you finally spot Kareema, and Kim, at the island of the kitchen preparing a fruit and vegetable tray.

“Kareema, look who I found,” Shea calls out. Everyone looks. It’s like he doesn’t even care what anyone thinks. And this, makes you feel special. However, lingering in the back of your mind, is ‘the girlfriend’ who is present.

“Hi, baby,” Kim says, not taking her eyes off the tray long enough to notice anything peculiar. But, just as Kareema smiles wide and darts over to you for a hug, she notices, and gives Shea a look of confusion. He casually drops your hand and you squeeze Kareema tight. 

“I missed you so much,” she says, enthusiastically. 

“I missed you too,” you respond with just as much joy. 

She lowers her head while beaming into your eyes, “Everything alright?”

And you’re not sure if you should read between the lines or take it for exactly what she means, but you play it safe. “Yeah, everything’s good,” offering a sincere smile.

“Alright,” Kareema says in a wary tone. You know she knows something’s up.

Kim says something to Shea you don’t quite catch and he wanders off, but not before giving you a wink and smile.

With him gone, you feel at ease and join right in as you would any other time. Although, you notice most of the food is prepared with all the help from family and friends, and you stand to Kareema’s side and tend her with garnishing a cheese and cracker tray. You both talk and catch up, but in between pauses, you can’t help the thoughts of Shea that crosses your mind. You even steal glances through the windows of him out being social. And in one of the brief observances, you spy him face to face with ‘the girlfriend’. You stare a little longer and it’s obvious it’s not a friendly conversation.

It also doesn’t surprise you that ‘she’ isn’t in here with the most of the women. While Kim is polite and respectful toward ‘her’, it’s no secret Kim doesn’t care for her otherwise. Kareema on the other hand, is always kind. She’s kind to everyone. And you, well, you’ve not had much interaction with her, but you’ve been cordial.

It’s close to the time of Senior’s arrival and the semi-small gathering take places outside. Kim waits at the front door as she plans to greet her husband.

You stand with Kareema sipping a glass of chardonnay. You shouldn’t be, but you are. And Shea is laughing with Darrell and a couple of their friends over by the dj’s booth. ‘The girlfriend’ is hanging back chatting with Darrell’s girlfriend; probably the only one who really likes her.

Kareema’s phone dings and it’s Kim. “Alright everyone, he’s here. Mom just texted.” Everyone scatters to desired spots centered the yard, and wait silently for Kim to lead him through the patio doors. As soon as she does, her hands drop from shielding his eyes, and everyone bursts at once.

“Happy Birthday!”

Senior’s face lights up in true unexpected amazement. It’s the best and you’re smiling wide and clapping. You follow Kareema toward her father and wait for a turn to hug.

“Happy birthday, pops,” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders for a warm hug, still wearing a bright smile. This day is nearly perfect and you’re floating with happiness, despite ‘the girlfriend’. You also wish you wouldn’t have stayed away for so long. A thought springs to mind and leaves you wondering if ‘she’ would be there if you hadn’t. 

As afternoon turns into evening, the crowd began to loosen as Darrell took to the booth. He spins off a slew of classic 90′s rap and R & B, and of course, there’s always that one tipsy relative who puts on the comedic performance of old school dances center floor. However, it’s not long before everyone joins in for the hustle. Even yourself. Your mind has actually lifted off of Shea and ‘the girlfriend’, to enjoying all the fun surrounding you.

You’re dancing, swaying your hips and snapping your fingers on beat when you feel an arm reach around your waist. It pulls you back against a warm body. It could only be one person. You continue to move and leisurely glance over your shoulder as you purposely grind your ass into his crotch.

“Meet me inside,” he whispers into your ear. 

Your only answer is an act of grinding a little harder.

You feel him leave you and you flow with the music until the song is over. You look around as you amble toward the drink table, curious if anyone saw, but no one seemed to be paying attention or were dancing themselves. You don’t even see ‘the girlfriend’ and Kareema is talking with cousins.

You ladle yourself some punch, sneaking a little more chardonnay to mix and disappear into the house. You walk through the kitchen, into the dining and end in the hallway, not seeing Shea. You sip wondering where you’re supposed to meet him. You take a few steps to the staircase and meet Shareef coming down.

“You seen Shea?” 

“Naw, he prolly outside,” he answers, wandering off into the kitchen. 

You peer up stairs and it appears to be dark and quiet. You’re thinking you should’ve asked ‘where’ to meet, when you hear footsteps coming from the lower level staircase on the other side. You walk around and it’s him. Finally.

“S’up,” he says with a crooked smirk. 

“Lookin’ for you.” 

No sooner does he make the landing and his arms fasten around your waist, cupping you close. You plant a palm to his chest, balancing your drink with the other hand.

“Oh, this what’chu wanted?” You ask, giving a playful attitude. 

“Yup.” And he leans his head, closes his eyes and lays a wet hungry kiss on you.

While the kiss is amazing, this doesn’t feel right to you and you add more pressure in pushing him away. “Uh huh-- I ain’t doin’ this.” And you take a step backward. “You got your girl out there an’ you in here tryin’ to do this?” 

“Man, it ain’t even like that.” 

“Don’t play me for stupid, Shea.” 

“We ain’t together. But I already had asked her to come-- so she here,” he shrugs, stepping toward you, pawing at you. “You even seen me wit ‘er? No. Besides, you wasn’t worried ‘bout it when you were out there dancin’ all on me.”

You purse your lips, knowing he has a point.

Hoping to convince you, he gives his sweet smile. “Come on. Come over her wit me.” 

Your body wants to give in, but your mind is telling you no. “Come with you where?” You ask, confused.

He opens the large hallway closet door and quickly dips inside, snatching you in with him.

“The hell you doin’? Oh, you crazy you think I’m doin’ anything with you in here.”

He laughs, closing the door, shutting out any light. You’re completely blinded with darkness and it’s all you can do to keep from spilling your drink.


	5. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content

Thick hands clutch your ass, grope your breasts, cup the nape of your neck while plush lips captivates your mouth– splaying you with hungry, sloven kisses. He’s like a damn octopus you can’t control.

“Sheaaa,” you whimper.

But he doesn’t listen.

You’re anxious and nervous someone will catch you both, but at the same time it’s naughty and exciting, and, you kinda like it. Shea’s starved movements causes you to tip and spill your drink– all down the front of your blouse.

“Shit,” you gasp.

But again, Shea doesn’t budge as he gently pushes your chin up with the side of his head and ravages your neck line– licking and sucking up the droplets of champagne and punch. And it feels so good, you give in and give up the struggle. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your solo cup slips from your fingers and clinks to the marble floor. You softly giggle.

However, he’s quick with his hands as your blouse is open, your bra is down and your skirt is up within what seems to be seconds. Finding your mouth again, he kisses you rough and fervently as his hands tour your exposed body, leaving you to hardly notice a hand has left, until you hear rustling of a belt and the swipe of a zipper. It’s then you feel his suave fingers maneuvering between your thighs and rapidly hauling the crotch of your panties to the side. You recognize the growing ache and you actually can’t wait for some sort of relief. But then, without any warning, your entire body shifts and you gasp, holding tighter to his shoulders. He’s lifted you by your legs and has you pinned to the cool closet wall.

Shea nestles his thick waist between your bounded thighs and you feel his attempt to search for your warmth. His tip jabs and probes and finally, he’s hit the right spot, entering just enough to make you hitch and clutch a fist full of his shirt. You think you’re prepared and ready but Shea carelessly and dryly, shoves deep with a quick snap of his hips. Your eyes spring wide open and a high pitched squeal escapes you.

Immediately, Shea drops a leg and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shshsh,” he breathes against your cheek.

Your eyes well from the sudden stretch and burn. You do your best to contain any further noises, but, you fail. He pulls from you slowly just to ram you again. And again. And again. Neither of you would notice you lose a heel if it weren’t for the thud when it hits the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasps. 

And “fuck,” is your muffled cry.

Despite the rough shoves, you’re thankful at least his dick is considerably slick and easier to take. Still, he manages to knock the wind from you when he drives deep. You’re doing everything you can to hang on, even reaching out for anything stable, but only pull down several coats and hangers.

Knock, knock.

You both freeze. Shea stretches out an arm for the closet handle and holds tight.

“Is anyone in there? Shea?” 

“Fuck,” Shea says under his breath.

It’s her. 

Instantly, your mood drops.

You hear a door open and you both realize it’s the bathroom right next to the closet. 

“Let me down,” you whisper, hastily. 

“Naw… She’ll be gone in a second,” he pleads. 

“Fuck that, she’s lookin’ for you,” you say a little louder, pushing him away and wanting him out of you as he’s still stuffed inside. 

“Shshsh,” he demands. 

You struggle from him and finally, he slips from you and you’re able to stand to your feet, minus a shoe. A rush of emotions come over you and those tears that were once a sexual pleasure, are now a sadness. As much as you wanted this, you feel used and like a dirty secret.

You compose your disheveled self and aim to leave the room. However, you don’t want her to see you, no more than you want to see her. You don’t even want to be near Shea and you can’t even believe you let this happen.

“Relax. What’s the matter wit you?” He asks as he’s forcing his unfinished dick back into his pants. “Don’t leave. I want to talk to you. I’ll get rid of her, auight?”

You can barely see him and if it weren’t for the slits of light coming through the cracks of the door, you wouldn’t see him at all. You quietly clear your throat. “This was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Just as he’s about to say something, he’s cut off by the toilet flushing. He tries to pull you into his chest, but you refuse, setting your palms to his torso and taking a step back. You quickly bend over before he can paw at you, and try to feel for your missing shoe.

You hear her finishing up and eventually opening the door again. Then, clicks of her heels trail across the marble, pass the closet and end at the staircase.

“Shea?” She calls out.

The carpeted stairs begin to creak and you know she’s now went on up. You hurry for the handle.

“Wait,” Shea says as he grabs the handle before you do. “Don’t leave, ok? I’m sorry. I’ll make this right an’ get rid of her. I’ll tell ‘er to go home. We ain’t together, so we ain’t doin’ anythin’ wrong, auight? Don’t be mad.” 

You choke back a sob, wanting to believe him and not wanting to be mad, or feel disgusted. “Alright,” you say, and rush out of the closet and into the near by restroom. You about die when you see yourself in the mirror. You look a hot mess. Your gloss is smeared, your hair is jacked and your blouse is stained red, and now, you just want to go home. You sigh, fighting back tears.

You turn and reach for some tissue and you begin to faintly hear chatter. Someone arguing. You try to listen close as you assume it’s Shea or her but there’s too many other noises that keep you from hearing clearly.

You contemplate leaving anyway since you’re in a desperate need of a shower and definitely a new set of clothes.

What to do, what to do…


	6. The Struggle

It’s been close to ten minutes since you’ve been stalling in the bathroom and you don’t hear anymore arguing. You open the door and peek out, scanning the hallway for clearance. Not spying anyone, you make a mad dash up to Kareema’s room. You can’t help to laugh at yourself scampering up the stairs with one heel on and the other in your hand. You also recognize the tenderness between your thighs from the effects of Shea. And damn, what an effect his has. 

Hitting the landing you think you’re safe, but as soon as you round the corner for Kareema’s room, there stands Shea-- exiting his own room. He chuckles. 

“What’chu doin’?” 

Nearly out of breath, you answer, “I don’t know... just trying to get to Kareema’s room to wash up.” You glance down to your maroon dyed blouse, then back up to Shea. He smiles stepping into your space. 

“No Shea... just don’t,” you say as you shake your head and take a step back.

“Why? She’s gone.” 

You beam deep into his dark eyes, pleading. “I don’t know ‘bout this... I mean, is it really over? An’ don’t lie to me? Just... don’t do that to me. Don’t make me look a fool.” Your heel dangles from your finger as you raise and point it directly at his chest. “I know your entire family and Kareema’s my best friend... don’t you dare make me look a fool.” 

“I’m not. It’s over. It’s been over,” are Shea’s sincere words as he once again, steps closer. 

However, you yet to let him near and stop him with that same pointed finger. “I dunno Shea... maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t know what I’m doing. I should know better.”

“What’chu talkin’ ‘bout girl? You trippin’.”

“I’m trippin’?” You repeat in a dignified tone. “How do you see this working out, Shea? Are you even thinking?” 

“I don’t know... that’s what I’m tryna find out,” he answers, still trying to etch closer. And that’s all it takes for you. 

“You know what... See, that right there tells me you ain’t taking none of this serious. Or, me.” Your eyes are blazing into his and while he stares back, and says nothing. “I’m gonna go change. You should... just go back to the party.” You shove past and go into Kareema’s room. 

Inside and safe, you stall, leaning back against the door. Once you hear his weight on the steps going down, you feel relieved he’s leaving you alone. At least for now. 

You quickly begin going through Kareema’s closet and drawers to find something else to wear, then head off to her bathroom. 

It’s dark, and you’re glad as you dress for comfort with a tank top and draw string sweat pants. You did the best quick-clean up you could but still feel a mess-- your bra is stained and you really need a shower. The thought of going home crosses your mind every other thought, but you’re curious. You like Shea and you want to believe his words. You know you may be in over your head, but your wants and needs speak louder than what you should do. Or maybe, shouldn’t. 

It’s late and the most of the older generation have departed, and the younger have took over. After putting what’s left of the food away and straightening up a bit, Kim and Senior have retired for the night, leaving Darrel and Shea to hold the rest down. 

You’ve been hanging with Kareema and she had a laugh at your mishap of spilling your drink. Of course, you had to come up with something to tell her why you’re in her clothes. Being it’s Kareema and you’re her ace one, she doesn’t mind. 

Shea is feeling good and being loud-- the life of the party. Or maybe he’s showing off. The girl is gone, so you’re satisfied with that. But neither of you make an attempt to talk to one another. And you’re ok with that as well. However, you steal glances and almost every time you do, you both make eye contact. He even flashes his sexy smile and that seductive wink, and it drives you crazy. You eventually just ignore him and pay attention to Kareema and your surrounding group. 

It’s 3 am when the last of the crowd breaks up and heads elsewhere. Kareema covers a yawn and tells you she’s going to bed. She gives you a hug and you tell her you’ll be there soon once you finish your drink. The same drink you’ve been babysitting since you returned to the party, and obviously this is just an excuse to see if Shea tries to talk to you now that you’re alone. Which, you roll your eyes to yourself, knowing it wasn’t but a bit ago you were telling him ‘you didn’t think this was a good idea’, yet, here you are, wanting him to talk to you. The struggle. 

Casually, you sip your drink and peer around the yard for Shea. As soon as you swallow, your lips twist and you stifle a gag. The drink had gotten way to warm and tastes like straight alcohol. You immediately find a trash can and dump the drink. Not seeing Shea around, you decide it’s best to just go on to bed. 

Reaching for the handle of the patio door, you find Shea. He’s in the kitchen, stuffing his mouth with tortilla chips and seven layer Mexican dip. You smile and walk on through. 

“Hungry?” You tease. 

“Mmmhmm,” he answers around a mouth full, slightly smirking. 

Shea raises a chip with some dip to offer and you crinkle your nose and shake your head. 

“No thanks. I’m good.” 

But you do still have the bitter taste of the last sip in your mouth and grab a water from the fridge. Having your back to turned to Shea, you know and feel his eyes on your ass. Sure enough, you turn around and witness his heavy eyes slowly scanning up your body to meet yours. And he’s smirking, while chomping. You roll your eyes. 

“What?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders as though he wasn’t doing anything wrong. 

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” you say, turning to walk away. 

“Oh, you gon’ leave like that?” 

You turn back and answer, “Yeah, what else m’I gon’ do?” 

You watch as his lips turn up into a wide grin and you just know he’s thinking something dirty and sarcastic to say. 

“Uh huh, don’t even do it,” you quickly intervene. 

“What? I ain’t even said nuttin’.”

“But’chu was goin’ to.”

“Girl, you gotta stop wit all dis. Come on...” Shea says, snapping on the lid to the dip. “We need ta go talk dis shit out.” And you lower your head, giving him a look, but he’s paying attention to putting the dip away and closing up the bag of chips. 

He picks up a cup, slams back the rest of whatever he’s drinking, and as he tosses the cup in the trash, he’s padding toward you. Then past you, but not before cupping your hand and leading you up stairs to his bedroom. Of course, you don’t protest. 

Once your both inside, he drops your hand and closes and locks the door. 

“Alright, so what’chu wanna talk about that you gotta lock the door?” 

“We need to talk ‘bout how you left me hangin’ in da closet,” he answers, peeling out of his shirt and dropping his pants. 

Instantly, your face flushes and your body warms. Not only because he’s stripping out of his clothes in front of you, but you hadn’t thought about how you left him with a case of blue balls. This was not the ‘talk’ you thought he wanted, but you can’t help the snicker that leaves you. 

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” He says, now removing his undershirt, displaying his thick and sexy torso. “You’ll be payin’ for it.” And just the way he says those words in such a low, serious tone, a rush of nervousness comes over you. You begin to wonder what exactly he means, but you don’t ask. 

With nothing but his boxers on, he steps toward you and your entire body tenses. He plants his hand to each side of your face, quickly damps his lips with a lick of his tongue, and provokingly drags his luscious lips across yours. 

“C’mere,” he breathes against your mouth, easily pulling you by the hips toward his bed. 

You take in a breath and swallow hard as you follow. He’s locked eyes with you and you know he knows you’re weak. Like a wild animal to it’s prey, Shea not only senses it, he feels it, and most definitely smells it. And you also know by the look in his dark, animalistic eyes, he’s going to tear that ass up.


End file.
